The Red Rose
by Ange de Music
Summary: AU. Christene's great-great-great granddaughter comes to the opera populaire to perform in the musical, POTO. Erik is still very much alive. Will he finally have his Christene? R
1. The shadow

A/N; I own none of the original characters but Alyssa is MINE! grrrrrr to all who want her. Anyways enjoy the story. This is an alternate universe thingy. It's set baisically in our time with CD's great-great-great granddaughter, who is named after her. Erik is still alive thanks to a curse...blinks innocently we can't have the most important guy dead can we? Please read and review. OOC for Erik in a few parts, but 100 years alone will do that to you. If you must flame, flame politely, or I shall be most cross, "Erik you will get the rude flames won't you?" Nods and flicks the punjab at the rude flamey people Smiles see he'll come after you!.. Enjoy

Christene gasped at the splendor of the opera house. The stage was as yet unlit but there seemed to be light on everything. She looked up searching for the source of the light and again gasped in surprise and delight. The ceiling was a mural of cherubs and heavenly beings. Lighting all this splendor was a chandelier that just dripped diamonds.

Christene ran on stage, the chandelier catching the ring on her left hand and the necklace on her throat. She turned gleefully her chestnut hair whipping around her face and making her sapphire eyes light up in joy. She spun in a tight circle enjoying the feeling of being onstage.

"Anyone who can do _that_ in stilettos deserves a principle role" an amused voice called out of the shadows at the back of the theatre. "Who's there?" A young girl with baby fine blonde hair, pale green eyes and full lips strolled out of the back, "just me" She ascended the steps towards Christene and stuck out a hand, "Hi I'm Alyssa, Alyssa Giry". Christene smiled, "I'm Christene, Christene Daae" They shook hands.

"So Alyssa, why were you recruited to this production?" Alyssa laughed. "I am here to audition what about you" Christene smiled "I'm here to play myself". Meg gaped "oh gawd I am _such_ an idiot. Why didn't I thin k of it? Christene Daae. Oh lord, ok what is your real name?" Christene smiled puzzled, "it's Christene Daae. I've been cast as Christene Daae".

Meg really wanted to kick herself this time. "I'm sorry about that" Christene shrugged, "it's really no problem at all. I could understand. I hope you get a good part"

Almost as an afterthought Christene turned as she bent to grab her two bags, 'by the way where'd you get the jeans, they are too cute" Alyssa looked down, "oh these ummmmm American Eagle". Christene smiled at her new friend. "Well I guess I'd better run before Mr. Robere comes for auditions." She started off stage but Alyssa called out, "Where are you staying?" Christene grabbed a piece of paper "ummmmm, suite 32 A" Meg gasped. "Christene, that's rumored to be the original Christene Daae's dressing room" Christene smirked, "I know, I requested it."

As Christene headed off stage neither girl noticed the shadow against the chandelier, " Christene Daae? There's no way. No way at all." The shadow glided off to get a closer look at this Ms. Daae.


	2. The story of how I came to be

Christene took the CD player out of her bag and plugged it in. She set aside a couple of cds and stared into the mirror. She couldn't help but feeling like eyes were on her. She shook off her feelings as someone who'd read too much POTO stuff. She kicked off her sandals and collapsed on the bed a small moan of pleasure escaping her full lips. Twenty-four hours on a plane were enough to make anyone grumpy and any bed would have made her moan.

A knock on her door roused her a few minutes later. "Hold on a minute,um who is it?" "Mr. Robere" "Oh crap!" "Umm hold on Mr. Robere" Christene slipped her hair into a respectable ponytail and brushed some lipstick on. She opened the door and smiled at Mr. Robere "come in please." He looked around the room, noticing the old fashioned look . "Are you sure that this is what you wanted Ms. Daae?" She smiled "why wouldn't it be?" He swallowed nervous. His grandmother had been the decendant of the opera house manager Firmin. "Rumor is that this room is haunted by the opera ghost!" Christene rolled her eyes "If he's a ghost he's dead ergo no threat." The manager left, not without a shudder, and Christene popped in a cd.

The shadow from the chandelier studied her. The thing that roused his interest the most was the flash of gold on her left hand. He couldn't tell but it looked like…no it couldn't be. He swallowed tears of pain and longing. His Christene was long dead. He had been there at her funeral. Christene Elise Daae was dead and had been for over eighty years.

Christene listened to the overture, as always the chilling organ had goosebumps going up and down her back and arms. She studied the full length mirror. She was tempted to see if the stories were true but she couldn't bring herself to check. She fingered the ring on her finger. The gold gave her a feeling of security. She opened her mouth and sang a few lines of _Faust_.

"_Think of me,  
Think of me fondly  
When we've said goodbye  
Remember me once in awhile.  
Please promise me you'll try_.

She hummed as she unpacked and picked out a shirt for practice later. She smiled as she imagined performing in front of an audience. She sang more of another familiar song

"_In sleep he sang to me,_

_In dreams he came,_

_That voice which calls to me,_

_And speaks my name,_

_And do I dream again?_

_For now I find the Phantom of the Opera is there,_

_Inside my mind."_

She waited for the phantom to finish his part and smiled wondering who her phantom was going to be.

"_Those who have seen your face draw back in fear,_

_I am the mask you wear,_

_Your spirit and my voice in one combined, _

_The phantom of the opera is here,_

_Inside my mind"_

She was startled out of her reverie by a sharp knock at her door. Alyssa entered. "Christene I am so sorry to bother you but I wanted to know something" Christene paused the cd. "Yeah?" Alyssa looked around and swallowed. "Are you related to the original Christene Daae?" Christene sighed, she knew this would come up. "Ok Yes, I am if you want to know the story I'll tell you, but it's not exactly pretty" Meg sat in a chair forcing Christene to take the bed, "Please". She glanced at the mirror, "I, I'd like to know."

The watcher smiled beneath his mask. Scaring Meg Gidry's great-great-great granddaughter had proved to be a very wise decision. Now he would know who this Daae was. How she was connected to his Christene.

Christene sat, looking at herself in the mirror. With her waist length chestnut hair, sapphire eyes, and full expressive mouth, along with her petit figure she knew she resembled her ancestor closely. She sighed once more and began her tale.

"As you know, or may not, the story of The Phantom of The Opera has it's roots in fact. There was a Christene Daae, a Vicomte De Changy, and a Phantom and it did all happen here at the Opera house but as for details I have none" Christene walked to a closet and got out four books all old and brittle with age. "My grandmother kept these journals. There were five but she burned the first one. She mentions at the beginning of the second one that she can't 'bear the mention of his damned name!' I can only guess who this means. More on that later.

Christene and Raoul were engaged for about three months but then Christene broke it off. She said she was still in love with someone else." "Umm Christene?" "Yes?" "How do you know she loved someone else?" "This story has been passed down generation to generation. So we know she told stories of her love to her child, Aaron and she also mentions an Erik in these journals. Over and over. Anyways.

About four months after their engagement was called off Raoul came to Christene's flat presumably to get her engagement ring back." Alyssa swallowed "Is that Raouls' engagement ring?" "this? no this is another ring, it too is an heirloom. This was Christene's most prized possession but we don't know who gave it to her or why. Only that she never took it off, ever."

Christene smiled but a tear showed her true feelings" Anywaus Raoul, went into her flat and he, he , he said that if she wouldn't be his bride he'd be damned if any man got her virgin blood" Alyssa gasped "he didn't…""yes he raped her. Afterwards she found out she was pregnant. Alyssa do you know any of this story?""No why"

"Christene turned to her friend Meg Giry to help deliver her child" "No!" "yes she did and Christene gave birth to a baby boy. She named him Aaron, Aaron Lucas.

Christene never married. She took care of Lucas and eventually went to Raoul to tell him of his son. Raoul never believed her. He took a swing at her and she landed a blow to his cheek. Ever since then the de Changys and the Daaes have hated each other." "Like the Capulets and montagues" Muttered Alyssa. "Yeah but without the murdering problem" joked Christene. "ok here's the family tree. Aaron married a girl named Elisa, they had two children Angelle and Michael. Michael married Lousie and had two children, Erik and Caroline, Erik married Veronica and had three children Jennifer, Brittany, and Erik Junior, Erik Jr. married Jessica and they had two children Charles and Christene, me. I am the first Christene Daae since the phantom of the opera." "Alyssa sat back "wow! That's a lot of people" Christene smiled amiably "I know" Alyssa rose, "it's almost six, ballet practice starts then" The news hit Christene "you're part of the ballet! Then we'll have a couple of practices together!" The girls squealed in glee and Alyssa left, closing the doors behind her breathing heavily.

How could Christene not know there was someone watching her? "Thank you my dear, your grandmother served me well, continue her tradition and I promise no harm will befall you under my roof." "Sir?" Alyssa squeaked out "She was my great-great-great-great grandmother." "Yes Ms. Giry but that is _such_ a mouthful and I'd rather conserve my breath for more productive things if it's all the same to you!" "Yes sir!" He stalked off and Alyssa started to breathe again. She was sure of one thing and one thing only, the phantom of the opera was back!

Down below the opera the masked man paced incessantly. He finally stopped and slammed his hand on the table. "Damn him, Damn him to hell and back again!" He silently vowed that any de Changy who dared crossed his path would regret it. He thought of Christene's daughter living above and a small smile crept over his face. The Angel of Music was back and ready to give lessons.


	3. The Gift and The Angel

Christene sighed. Pirouettes had never been so hard. "Straighter backs ladies you are swans not dinosaurs" Christene and Alyssa exchanged looks. Two weeks had flown by and they were rehearsing for the last time together. "Christene Alyssa pirouette" Christene sighed and pirouetted across the stage Alyssa paralleling her. They were in perfect time and, unbeknownst to them, breathtaking. "Bravo! Bravo! Ok ladies, you may go" Christene and Alyssa laughed their way back to Christene's suite. "Ladies? Lord! What is this the nineteenth century?"

Christene's laugh died as she saw the necklace. It was simple. A silver chain dangled a charm encompassing angel wings tangled around a musical note. It was draped over a red rose. "Oh my god this is so very beautiful", she fingered the charm delicately. "Oh Alyssa who could have left this?" Alyssa looked away , she knew just who. " Is it signed?" "Silly how could a necklace be signed?" "oh yeah um, urmmmmm" "Christene clasped it to her breast. I know I'll wear it the night of the performance….have they cast." She screwed up her mouth "Raoul?" Alyssa sighed, "It's between two men now. One will be chosen tomorrow."

Christene lay on her bed, holding the rose to her cheek. Mmmmmmm the soft, silky petals caressed her cheek like a lover's kiss. She sighed. Lulled by the warmth of the room and the softness of the bed, Christene drifted into sleep.

There was no mist to herald his arrival, no ominous music to betray his presence. He slipped silently to the bed and looked down at the girl. She was Christene in looks but not in charm. She was more, mature, yes mature but was she beyond the years of belief? He sat on the bed next to her and sang a song, one that the child's grandmother had inspired:

"_Angel of light,_

_Angel of innocence,_

_Calling me from my darkest dreams,_

_The truth remains,_

_No angel could love a demon,_

_Not even if he tried to be heaven,_

_Not even if he cried"_

Christene stirred in her sleep and the man fled with the grace of a cat to the mirror and hid behind that lusterous window. That was too close. Twice before she had stirred and once he thought she had seen him! He was not ready. He wasn't sure. The girl had talent, but could she see beyond the monster to the angel caged inside?


	4. An Old Feud

An incessant banging on Christene's door the next morning roused her from dreams of a shadow man singing her songs of angels and demons. "Who's there and what do you want?" She grumped. "It's Alyssa". "Oh, come in. Alyssa do you have any caffeine?" Alyssa smiled and brought a large coke from behind her back. "Thought you'd might want this. Anyways you need to wake up. "Why?" She glanced at her alarm clock, forcing her eyes to focus. "It's not even ten yet." Alyssa sat down in front of Christene. "Christene they've cast the vicomte." "So?" "His name is Jordan." "Jordan…?" Alyssa lowered her eyes, "Jordan…de Changy." Out of all the reactions she expected Christene exhibited the one thing Alyssa couldn't expect. Calmness. "Is he now? Well Alyssa dear, I suppose I'd better get ready for the dear vicomte's arrival don't you think?"

Jordan arrived soaked to the bone. The weather had said sun all day and what should happen? It rains. Of course it would rain. To add to his black mood the cab driver had gotten lost no fewer than three times! It was strange how the man never removed his fedora and never let Jordan see him either.

The man in the fedora smiled malevontly. It had taken all of his will not to kill the young man. He however had watched Christene and could read her icy grin. She was going to make sure the young rat got what he deserved and the man rather enjoyed the idea of watching her handle the boy.

Jordan walked through the foyer and was greeted my Mr. Robere. "Ahh Jordan how are you?" "Soaked" Mr. Robere nodded solemly. "Yes it appears you are. Well I am sure you are eager to meet your co stars?" "Yes I am. Tell me Mr. Robere how did you find.." he took a breath "the girl who's playing Christene Daae?" Mr. Robere smiled, "It's quite amusing really, see me and my wife, you remember Lisa? Anyways we went out to see Forty Second Street and the girl playing Peggy won my heart. I just had to have her for the phantom. I offered her the part on the spot and well, the rest is history" Jordan refrained form yawning. All he asked for was an explanation. A simple, "I found her in a play" would have sufficed. "What room is this young woman occupying?"

"Suite 32 A" "and the man who plays the phantom?" "Jeffery? 42 D" Jordan bowed and left.

Christene smiled at her reflection. Stunning was the word. Yep definitely stunning. With the cowl neck crimson shirt, black capris, and those infamous black stiletto heeled sandals her figure was perfecto. On top of that her eyes sparkled with a touch of green on her eye-lids, her mouth was a pout of perfect honey, and her hair was swept up into a French braid that fell down her back. Yep she was stunning. Alyssa burst through the door. "Christene! He's on his way! He's- holy cow! You are..wow! he is going to die!" Christene smiled, "That, Alyssa, is the whole point."

Alyssa opened the door to leave and promptly ran into Jordan. " Are _you_ the girl to play Christene Daae?" The way he said it it sounded like she would make the musical a complete flop. "No she's in there." Alyssa jerked her thumb at the door and brushed past Jordan knocking his arm as she went. "Bitch" he retorted.

He entered the room and was transported back to the eighteen hundreds except for the girl. The girl with the legs he amended, long luscious beautiful legs that ended at the perfect a-"Hello Monsieur" this thick French accent came tumbling his way. "uhh Bonjar, urm Bonjour miss." Jordan was more intrigued by the minute. She stuck out a slender hand behind her nails painted sharply crimson. "Enchante I am sure?" Jordan took the hand and kissed it gently. "Miss, what's your name? Turn around the suspense is killing me". "Of course Sir." The last word sent a shiver up his spine as the French accent was dropped. She turned and smiled, "hello Changy" "Daae!" "How nice to see you again Jordan what's it been five years, more?" He sputtered "but but but _you_ are playing Christene!" She was almost giddy with the surprise on his face. "Yep so pucker up pretty boy." "I'm going to talk to Robere about this…you'll be gone by tomorrow!" "Jordan, I don't think so. Remember, you had to audition, I was specifically chosen. You can be replaced". Jordan left the room quickly. Tension was radiating off his body in waves. The door slammed and de Changy was gone.

Christene sank on the bed and cradled her face in her hands. She wasn't the mean type. It took all of her acting ability to be cruel to Jordan. She did hate his ancestor for what he had done; but, it wasn't in her nature to be cruel. She crumpled onto the pillow and wept in sorrow for what she had become for those few minutes. A monster.

The shadow behind the mirror laughed so hard he couldn't stand anymore when he saw the boy's face when he realized who he was talking to. The lust in his eyes died quicker than a victim of the Punjab lasso. "Daae!" The shadow laughed until tears were rolling down his face, then he heard a sound that quickly sobered him. Crying. Christene was crying. In that moment she was the Christene Daae of so many years ago. Why was she crying? What could he do to help her? He placed his fingers on the glass and wept for the pain she was feeling.

Alyssa bounced into Christene's room, it was their unofficial meeting place. "Chris, I don't know _what _you said to him but, Christene? Christene? She ran to the bed. Did he hurt you? If he did so help me god!" "No no he didn't hurt me Ali, no." Alyssa frowned, "then why are you crying?" "Oh Ali I acted like such a jerk! He, I, I'm not usually like that, with anyone. I hate that. I hate being cruel to someone." She collapsed in tears once more. " Oh Cris, it's ok I promise." Christene smiled and hugged her friend. "You are so good to me". Alyssa winked "Of course someone's gotta look after you." Christene laughed, her blue eyes shimmery and gorgeous. The shadow's heart ceased to beat. She was breathtaking. "Yeah cause everyone knows I'm a basket case". The shadow and Alyssa's voices mingled in laughter and Alyssa left. "Remember, you and the new phantom guy are meeting to rehearse singing in one hour" Christene mock saluted her new friend "Yes ma'am drill seargant ma'am. "Damn straight" They collapsed into a fit of giggles again as the shadow wandered off, with the first seeds of inspiration growing. The first inspiration he'd had in over a hundred years.


	5. What I Wouldn't Do For love

Christene and Jeffery got along well, even swimmingly. She knew she and Jeff, as he liked to be called, had the first seeds of a friendship but there were no sparks. Christene sighed. She had never fallen in love. She never could. It was like all the men she had been around had been lacking something. As she looked at Jordan flirting with Veronica, who was to play Carlotta, she thought "Yeah lacking common decency."

Jeffery and Christene held hands as they sang, "The Point of No Return" She marveled how his voice could hold such power and not rend him in two. He wondered how such a small throat could push those notes so high. Jordan wondered if he was going to be able to hold his lunch down.

Christene sat at her vanity, brushing her hair. The silky curl locks sprang and bounced on her head. She giggled as she remembered Charles playing with them, then sobered. Charles. Tears gathered in her eyes as she thought of her brother. Where was he? After the car accident…better not think of the accident. Charles had left. He was afraid that his family couldn't accept him as he looked. It didn't matter how many times they told him despite the scars he was still their Charles he never believed them. She still remembered him screaming "How can you love a monster!" He never did understand that physical appearance didn't make a man it was the soul.

Suddenly she burst into tears. "Charles oh Charles, your face isn't what matters Charles come home" "Charles!" The angel's heart broke. It simply shattered. His princess was grieving over her brother. Something about his face, he felt his own deformity. She saw past her brother's looks perhaps she could see past his! He swallowed nervous as any adolescent boy." Ange de la musique"

Christene started. "who's there?" "A friend" She turned trying to pinpoint the voice. "If you're a friend come out where I can see you" " I shall my angel but could you do me a favor?" "What?" "sing for me." she suspiciously stared at the mirror. "What do you want me to sing?" "Anything."

_Angel I hear you,_

_Speak I listen,_

_Stay by my side,_

_Guide me_

_Angel my soul was weak, _

_Forgive me,_

_Enter at last,_

_Master."_

An answering song answered her unasked question.

_Flattering child you shall know me,_

_See why in shadows I hide,_

_Look at your face in the mirror,_

_I am there inside._

She was trembling as she turned towards the mirror but there was no one there. A rose fluttered to her feet. She picked it up. She turned wondering where this "friend" had gone. She turned, her gossamer nightgown swirled around her feet. 'Friend of mine, come out" Only silence greeted her words.

The angel cried why couldn't he face her? She seemed different than her predecessor. He knew the truth, he was scared. He the phantom of the opera was scared of a mere woman. Not such a stretch for a heartbroken man. He would try again later.

Christene continued her rehearsals but now she was apprehensive of her dressing room. She knew she was being watched. Jordan was no help deliberately scaring her to the point of insanity. But most often he was taken up with Veronica. If the rumors were true then they were already lovers. Alyssa and Jeff were pairing up too. In fact half the cast was pairing up with the other but Christene was without anyone. That was the way she liked it. At least that's what she told herself at night when she was alone.


	6. Could It Be He Exists?

One night the infamous storm that had soaked Jordan knocked out the electricity. Mr. Robere assured everyone that they'd have light. The gas fixtures were still operable. When the lights were lit and laterns as well the cast was sent to bed. The flickering flames made each shadow appear to live and jump. Christene watched the show, until she noticed a shadow was doing more than jumping. It was following her! She felt a cold clammy hand come down upon her shoulder and screamed. She spun around and there he was. "Jordan! You ass! What the hell is wrong with you?" Jordan only laughed. "Daae you'd better get to bed before the monsters get you." He disappeared into Veronica's room.

Christene was finally tired of being terrified of her room. She changed into her nightgown and brushed her hair until it gleamed then resolutely stood before the mirror. She ran her hands over the frame, looking for something, anything that didn't fit. She found nothing. She leaned against the mirror. Her hand pushed against a crack near the top. She heard a click. Terrified she had broken a piece of the mirror she jumped back, just in time to see the mirror swing inward. She almost screamed. The stories were true! This room really was an entrance to a labyrinth. She grabbed the lantern and taking a look back at the room, comfy in its innocent simplicity, she took a deep breath and closed the mirror behind her

She turned trying to see what there was to see. All she could make out was her bed and the door and her chair. At least she had privacy. She turned back around and continued down the stairs or at least the things that felt like stairs. She heard a sound she couldn't identify. Finally as she went deeper she figured it out. It was an organ. A real pipe organ. What would a pipe organ…the phantom! Her throat clenched with, what she couldn't tell. She continued down.

The water was cold. What? Water? Christene looked down. Sure enough inky water swirled over her feet. She held her light high. A boat was tethered about a hundred feet down from her. She untied it determined to pole across to the island she was sure lay at the middle.

The alarm sounded in the house. He ignored it. No one came down here except the rats. He could forgive a rat for tripping an alarm. He heard the bump of the boat on shore. Damn boat always coming untied. He stood to go get it and came face to mask with an angel.

She stared. "Who are you?" He swallowed, "No one" She smiled. "Hello No One my name is Christene, Christene Daae." "I know who you are." She looked him in the eye. "Have you been watching me through my mirror?" He looked away. "No." "No one you are a terrible liar." "You're taking this very calmly." She smirked. "That's cause I already suspected" "you what?" "I. Always. Knew." " What were you playing?" He bristled "none of your concern!" She backed away "ok ok No one just asking." "Erik!" "What?" He growled through clenched teeth, "My name is Erik, Erik Bordeau."

She smiled an angel in white, "Erik how nice." She smiled. "What's so funny?" "Nothing's funny Erik it's just kind of amazing" He studied her, "what's amazing?" 'That you're the phantom, my grandmother fell in love with an Erik and now I'm starting to suspect that Erik was the phantom" He gulped. She was so close.

"Erik?" she looked down. "Yes mon ange" "She mumbled something. He lifted her face surprised to see tears. "What is it beautiful one." "Can you, can you teach me to sing?" "No I can't." Her tears threatened to fall. He gently brushed her hair back. "You already can sing, I can only teach you control, you have everything else" She cried openly now. "What? What did I do my angel please what did I do?" She saw worry in his eyes and rushed into his arms, almost knocking him over. "You are the sweetest man I ever met... Thank you Erik! You are an angel!"

He bit his lip to keep from crying. The truth would have to come later. Right now she trusted him. He couldn't throw that away, not yet. He held her close for a minute. Relishing in the fact that another human could hug him so freely. Her hair smelt of honey and her skin was down soft. He gently untangled her from himself. "My angel, you need your rest. Come on I'll take you back." Erik?" "Yes?" "Come visit my mirror again sometime, ok?" He almost wept. "I'll always be there for you, always." He not only said this to the woman he found friendship in but the woman buried for eighty years, a promise he was trying to live up to.


	7. Her First Love

Christene placed her fingetips against the glass. Her eyes were still shimmery from her tears. Erik smiled at her as his image faded. She was so beautiful. She was so very beautiful.

She smiled as her fingers receded from the cool ice of the mirror. On impulse she played her cd. She was so thankful she'd remembered batteries this time around. The overture started. Christene closed her eyes and let the music take her. She swirled around and leapt for the joy of dancing. She sang softly hoping he would hear:

"_The phantom of the opera,_

_Is here,_

_Inside my mind"_

You are Erik. You are in my mind and my soul. She didn't know why meeting a man was causing this joy. She realized then, sparks had flown. She had fallen for him. The first man she had cared for. Her first love.

Erik smiled behind the glass, catching the words and their meaning. He watched her spin and leap. He recognized the joy conveyed through her movements and smiled beneath his mask.

She was true beauty. Her robe flittered behind her like the train of a wedding gown or a sheer cloud. Her hair streamed like molten copper in the light. He knew it was chestnut but the light threw red tints into her hair. Somehow making her more exotic, more beautiful, than the sandy foot angel he had met just two hours ago.

He clutched his heart as it gave a lurch. He was falling for her. He smiled in joy at the first woman in over a hundred years to make him feel. Then he sobered. If he felt, then he could be hurt. Not again, never again. He would never let himself be hurt again.

He sighed into the darkness. Her form was perfect. Her singing was off by less than an octave. There was so little to teach her. She had emotion, power, and range, all she needed was control. After that what would keep her coming back? Nothing. Erik knew it and cursed his fate. He would have her, only to lose her again. He didn't know if he could stand the pain. He walked off into the darkness, trying to figure out why he should continue to see her. Depression as a shroud, he made the decision for her. He couldn't stay. No, it was best for both of them if he disappeared before she had a chance to hurt him.

Christene stopped in the middle of a spin, something was wrong. She could sense it. Christene snorted, "yeah the force is strong with me young padawan. Ohhhk no more Star Wars for a while." She stopped the cd and stepped up to the glass. "Erik? Erik are you still there?" There was no answer. He was gone.


	8. The First Night

A/N: Hey guys. Thanks for all the reviews! The quicker I get them the quicker i update. I like you guys commenting! Anyways..urm yeah enjoy?

The days passed by for Christene. The schedule was set. Get up at the beastly hour of eight in the morning, eat breakfast, and go change into a t shirt and shorts. The cast would rehearse till noon, then break for lunch. Then Christene and Jeff would rehearse their numbers together, a thirty minute break and then it'd be Jordan's turn. The young de Changy and Ms. Daae made a beautiful team but all the cast knew that underneath it all was pure animosity. Only the two enemies, one chorus girl, and the phantom knew the truth.

Christene hurried back to her room after her shower. Her hair dripped silent cold dropets down her back but she didn't mind. Erik had been gone over a week. Christene was starting to worry. Where was he? Was he ok? She clucked at herself for sounding like her mother. Erik was a big boy. Oh yeah huge was the better term. He was trim alright but every inch of him that she had felt in that hug had been pure muscle. He was tall and lanky but with the hard, compact feeling of a fighter. She mentally shook herself, "now is not the time to be dwelling on his body, hott as it may be".

She grabbed the flashlight she had purchased after that night of the power outage and headed back down the corridor, hopefully to find her heart's desire among its many twists and turns. The last time she had music to light her way, a way to give her direction. She saw a wire glittering in the dark. She carefully stepped over it. Then she heard the gurgle of water close to the shore. She picked her way through many twists and turns mentally remembering each one, right, right, left, right, left, left, left, water! She felt the water swirl on her ankles and shivered. The house was unlit. That alone scared Christene to death.

Erik lay musing in his room. Maybe it was wrong but he had taken the music box Raoul had left on Christene's grave. It played a song that was a true lullaby to him, in fact he was half asleep, mumbling "Maquerade, paper faces on parade, Masquerade, hide your face so the world can never find you" He yawned as he sank lower into Sleep's embrace, then as if from the heavens floated a voice so pure. It echoed the song of the play, the song he was supposed to sing with Christene when she first saw him in the mirror, The Angel of Music.

_Angel I found you,_

_I was so worried,_

_Why are you hiding down here? _

_Angel I don't know why you're hiding,_

_Sing for me my angel._

Erik's eyes sprang open. He thanked well, whoever that his mangled deformity was pressed into the pillow. He grabbed his mask hanging on the bust above his bed, and adjusting it sat up and sang a reply:

_Flattering child you found me,_

_While in the shadows I hide,_

_You really wanted to find me._

_Though I don't know why._

Christene was crying softly. She had been so afraid. Afraid that Erik had died or had left her. Each was a fate too horrible to imagine. Erik flung back the covers and ran to her. "Mon ange, mon ange" He stopped remembering that she most likely knew little to no French. "My angel, what is it?" "Oh Erik I was so scared." "Scared, of what?" Was so scared you left, you died, you I don't know that something had happened to you".

Erik sighed, "Oh my darling angel forgive me, please, I did not think you could really want my friendship" She looked up at him with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity "Why would you think that?" "I am a monster my angel, a demon who burns in hell" She smirked "Let me guess, but secretly dreams of heaven secretly" He smiled, "You are too smart for me darling"

She refused to look down, despite what she suspected, "Umm Erik, uhhh" "What" "Are you…naked?" He looked down "oh crap!" In his haste to get to her he forgot to put clothes on. "Don't look" She turned her back to him. He watched her shoulders shake with laughter and laughed himself. She wanted his friendship. She wanted his love or at least that caring sort of love.

"can I turn around now?" He looked down, "all clear" Christene turned and had to tell herself not to drool. She had been right about the muscles, he was _all_ muscle right down to the last ab. The shirt he had carelessly draped over his chest was worse than no shirt at all and the pants were loose but still form hugging. He was so delicious.

Christene shook her head. "Erik, what am I going to do with you?" He shrugged. "Drop a chandelier on me?" Christene laughed. "I'll arrange it ok?" she hugged him, "Erik you are too funny, don't go away this long ever again!" He buried his face in her honey hair and promised. How could he stay away from such a perfect angel? It's a wonder he lasted a week.

Christene walked back to her room, alone. Erik had been so tired. She left him to sleep insisting this was the twenty first century a girl could walk by herself. She reached her mirror and glanced up, with a muffled scream she fled back down to the lair and the safety of Erik's protection.

The alarm went off. Erik sat bolt upright. Then moaned. "Oh god not again. We are not going through this again" He grumbled into the pillow. Then grabbed his mask. A door had slammed.

He walked out of his room to find Christene, white as a sheet, trembling and trying not to cry. "my angel, my muse what's the matter? What happened?" She glanced at him like a mouse caught in the eyes of a snake, "My my room…it's horrible. I can't, I can't" He grabbed her roughly, not meaning to hurt but trying to get her to come back to reality. "Hey! Hey! What. Happened?" She looked into his eyes and was calmed by the strength in them. " I was climbing to my mirror and I looked into my room and, O Erik it was horrible"

He led her to his bedroom. She sank onto the bed. "What mon ange?" She looked past him. Perhaps seeing her room so far away, "There was blood all on the wall and a dagger stuck into the bed, with a note. I could barely make it out. It read 'Daae filth'. Erik I couldn't go in that room. I can't go in that room, not tonight. Not while the shadows dance on everything.

He held her against his chest. "Shhhh shhh mon amie. It's ok. You can stay here tonight." She bucked, "What?" "I'm sorry mon ange it was a bad idea." "no no no it's not that, I, I just didn't expect you to want me to stay here. I know you're a loner and alone is how you like to be" He smiled, "Without you, everything is lonely" "Stay?" She nodded.

He stood and smiled at her. "Goodnight Mon amie. I will get you back into the opera before first light." She shuddered as she thought of her room. Understanding Erik smiled, "don't worry angel, The Phantom of the Opera knows more than one entrance to the Opera populaire. He bowed and left Christene to her dreams. He never thought they'd be of him.


	9. A Dream Come True

A/N: a castrato is a male that is specifically castrated to hopefully preserve a higher range of singing. ok I am updating quick. Thanks for the reviews. Any suggestions? Enjoy!

Christene awoke in Alyssa's room. The sun was pouring through the window and the covers were soft. She looked across the room and watched Alyssa, sleeping on the couch. She smiled at the sweetness of Erik bringing her here. Then she sobered. Her room. She stood up and yawned. She set her face and went off to Veronica's room. She knew who was to blame and she'd be damned if he got the better of her.

Christene reached Veronica's room in such a temper she couldn't even muster the decency to knock. She pushed open the door, interrupting the lovers inside. "What the hell!" Jordan squinted into the light. Veronica had dove beneath the covers and was trying to look modest. "Jordan de Changy get your lily white ass out here!" "Daae go away, I'm busy" "I don't care if you're dying GET OUT HERE NOW!" He grumbled as he got up, "what do you want?" "Why did you trash my room?" "I didn't trash your room." Chritene sighed, "do you think I'm stupid Jordan?" her tone had dropped to a level that was dangerously quiet.

Jordan smirked, "Maybe I do. But still I didn't trash your room" "Your dagger was there" Said dagger was thrust into the wall three inches from Jordan's head. "I don't know what you mean by 'Daae filth' unless you mean the fact that at one time my family was a class beneath yours." She turned away, "go'get busy' again Jordan but be assured, the next time you visit my room uninvited, it will be the last thing you ever do onstage, unless you could sing as a _castrato_." He snarled. "Is that a threat Daae?" She smiled, "No, it's a dream come true"

She sauntered off and turned the corner, breathing heavily. How could he do that?

Men, the bane of the earth. She smiled wryly thinking of Erik not all men were jerks. She went off in search of a rag. Damned if she let him boot her out.

Two hours later she was still scrubbing at the wall. The blood was actually stage paint but it stuck to the walls like superglue. She didn't hear the faint click behind her because of her head phones.

"Would you like some help?" She didn't answer. Then Erik spotted the wires running from her ears. He tapped her, She jumped and turned but seeing him she smiled and removed the phones. "Hey Erik what's up?" He smiled, "Just looking after my favorite angel. He took her hand and kissed it gently causing her to giggle. "Erik I'm covered in stage paint blood. He grinned, "Now I know what it's like to wear lipstick. So how do I look?" She openly laughed. 'Gorgeous dah-ling" "Do you want some help?" She looked at the wall and sighed, "Not really but I _need_ help. Do you mind?" "I wouldn't have offered otherwise."

She looked at him quizzically,"Erik?" "I'm not naked again am I?" "No , but are those Levis?" He looked down. "What ,should I be wearing tuxedo pants and dress shirts all the time?" "Yes, you should" He laughed and grabbed a rag reaching up to get the spots Christene could not. They broke for a few minutes to let their arms rest and Christene read his shirt. '140 and still kickin' "Erik? What's the shirt about" He looked down and smiled, "A private joke my dear. Just a joke" Christene frowned, "I like jokes, tell me". He sobered. "when the time is right, mon ange I shall. She sighed "Ok let's get this done"

The two worked together until noon. Christene locked her door and collapsed on the bed. "I need a nap" Erik kissed her hand again and left before she could offer to let him join her. She sighed, now she knew she wanted him but something about him let her know he was hiding something. Something big. What was so horrible that he couldn't tell her? Mulling over this in her mind Christene set her alarm and went to sleep.


	10. What We Never Knew

No, No my angel. You need to straighten out your diaphragm" Christene sighed. Erik was an excellent teacher but he was so very demanding. They'd been rehearsing the same song for half an hour.

Erik stepped behind her. He sensed her frustration and smiled slightly. She reminded him of another pupil. He placed one arm around Christene's waist and another lightly against the base of her throat and whispered one single word in her ear. "Sing"

Christene shivered against Erik's touch. He was so intimate, so sensual without even trying to be. She arched into his touch and started to sing the song all over again.

"_Think of me,_

_Think of me when we've said goodbye._

_Remember me once in a while,_

_Promise me you'll try_"

She was rewarded with clearer notes and more power for each note. It was pure as crystal. She turned smiling. "Thanks Erik." She bit her lip. "Erik, I want to ask you something but I want the truth." She looked long and hard at him. "Erik, how did you get here?" He frowned. 'I suppose I should have expected this. Sit down my angel, I have a story to tell you"

Christene sat, not so much puzzled as expectant. Erik seated himself in her armchair with his usual catlike grace and began his tale.

"First of all, whether you believe it or not I am the original phantom." Christene nodded, "I suspected as much" He smiled. "You are so bright. Anyway I was thirty four when I met the love of my life. I'm sure you can figure out who she was. Christene Daae. She was beautiful, trusting, innocent, and had unbelievable potential. I only needed to unlock her gift. I began singing to her when she was still a child under the guise of her 'Angel of Music' I never thought that that name would become my calling card for the rest of her life.

Years later I felt that she was ready to tackle the world of the opera. I caused the events that led to Carlotta's quitting and Christene singing her part. She was phenomenal." Erik smiled as the memories flooded his mind. "She was so beautiful. I'm sure you know you resemble her. I took her to my lair. I could not resist her anymore. I had to have her know me. My one mistake was not thinking the young vicomte truly had her affections.

Months went by. I was falling more and more in love with Christene and I never realized that the only love she had for me was the love for a teacher. I was head over heels and this woman, child really. She didn't understand this world. The masque came and went. The trap for me was set. Trust me, I knew what they were up to. I knew that they were willing to kill me. Wanted to kill me. The monster. I was willing to play their game and disappear, but she removed my mask."

Erik's lip trembled. Christene had watched in silence. Her heart broke. He still felt the pain even after it all. He continued.

"I took her to the house again but this time I wasn't in control. All I could think was how to keep her with me. I couldn't survive without her. She was my only love. What I did next I regret to this day. I made her choose between the man she loved and the angel turned monster that made her sing. Eventually I realized I couldn't keep her against her will. Even if it killed me.

She left and I abandoned my house, my life. None of it had any meaning. I wandered Europe for a while. I visited America. I went everywhere. Then one day I went to India.

Have you ever been to India?"

Christene shook her head in a negative. Her heart was in pain for him. He was still so beautiful. He had truly loved her grandmother. The madness had faded, but too late. Even he had known that. She sat quietly, trying not to cry, and listened to his story.

"I wandered down the river. Their sacred river. A child had strayed too far and was swept away. Drowning. Before I knew what happened I had jumped in after the toddler. No one else could have reached the child in time but somehow I did. The little boy clung to me for dear life. His mother was so thankful. His father was a magician and offered me a single wish in return for the child's life. I asked for unending youth until me and my love were together. It was a stupid wish and the man knew it. But the want was spoken. The magic cast and here I am. I am 140 years old but in the body of a thirty five year old man.

At first I believed this youth to be an advantage but soon realized that it was a curse. I watched everyone around me die, times change, yet I did not. It was a curse. Eventually I became a legend and everyone forgot me. I moved back into my home and rebuilt what the mob had destroyed. I started to live again, but without music. I couldn't write, not with her ghost chasing me."

He looked up and nodded. "Yes I attended Christene's funeral. I saw her son. I wish he could have been mine. I will never have children though. I won't risk this evilness upon another."

Christene crossed the room to him and kissed his exposed cheek. "She loved you Erik. She loved you with her entire being. She never found you but she always loved you."

Erik, undone by the sincerity of her voice sobbed. He sobbed for the pain, the laughter, the love, and most of all the chance to be cared for again. Christene sobbed with him, but she sobbed for his pain, and for hope, hope of a romance to be kindled.


	11. Dream onstage

Fittings were created by Satan. That much was obvious. Chritene teetered on a stool the long full, very full she amended, skirt spread around her small waist. It was beautiful she admitted. The silvery white material reminded her of moonbeams and set off her sapphire eyes perfectly. She glanced at the other dresses she would wear. They were all pretty. The wedding dress drew her eye.

The cream color was subtly romantic. The low neck led to the awaited promise of a wedding night. It flowed like water over her body. She knew it wasn't in character for the times but it was so romantic. She would be stunning in it. Come to think of it, all the necklines were low. All the dresses were romantic. She smiled. Erik was going to enjoy this.

Erik paced in the passage inside Christene's mirror. She had been gone two hours. He smiled at himself. 'You are growing impatient Erik. What happened to the patient man I used to be?" He chuckled knowing that it was the girl. She had changed him. She was so unbelievable. She hadn't pushed for information but slowly it came out. She now knew that the ring she wore was the engagement ring that he had given Christene all those years ago. She had complimented him on the design. She had yet to ask him about the key. His key. He sighed, it would all come out in time.

The doorknob turned and Erik turned expectantly to the mirror, but it was only Alyssa. She approached his hiding spot. He shrank back. She didn't know he was there, did she?

"Ummm Sir?" Alyssa felt so stupid she was talking to a mirror. A blank sheet of glass. "She wanted me to leave you this." Alyssa laid the letter on the table and left. Erik opened the mirror and picked up the note. He slit it open and read the following:

_Erik:_

_The stage, now!_

_Your Angel_

Erik almost flew to the stage and heard the strains of an unfamiliar song. It was fast and slightly noisy. Erik had heard worse.

_Tell me why,_

_Do we build castles in the sky._

_Why are the castles way up high?_

What took his breath away was the girl in the dress of moonbeams spinning. Her hair whipped around her head. The dress floating around her legs. Most of it however, was floating around her like a silver cloud. She reversed the spin and the dress flowed into the new pattern. Erik sat down. His knees had given out. He was in love there was no stopping it. 'Oh mon ange" he breathed. "mon ange, mon ange, mon ange"

She saw the flash of white in the balcony and smiled at him. "Erik? Come dance with me?" She started a new song. It was soft and slow. A song of timeless love. Promises of hearts lingering on. He came to her and she flowed into his arms. He held this angel of the night close and, at least in his mind, married her at that very moment letting his feet and body say his vows for his voice was dead and gone.

She stared up at him, at the face she could see. Her heart almost seemed to burst with love as they flowed around the stage. She loved him more than she knew was possible. As the music slowed then stopped they stared acutely aware of each other, the way their bodies fit, the way their hearts leapt as one. She slowly lifted her face to his. He started as he realized her intent and hastily lifted her hand to his lips. He saw her disappointment but he knew he wasn't ready. He bowed and smiled, "later tonight mon ange" He walked offstage. Christene watched as he left. After a few minutes she started thinking again and left as well. Neither of them had noticed the man watching them. "So, he exists." Jordan chuckled and left the empty stage to its memories.


End file.
